


Unpacking

by VickyVicarious



Series: Secrets [3]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angsty Schmoop, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natsume's belongings arrive, and he takes a step forward. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpacking

A month after moving in with Reiko, the rest of Natsume’s things arrive in the mail. He doesn’t have much, just two cardboard boxes. Until now he’s managed with the contents of his backpack: a single school uniform, a set of pyjamas, and a few casual clothes, as well as the necessary basic toiletries and school supplies. It has been very much like living in someone else’s home rather than his own, with a relentless feeling of temporariness, and if Natsume weren’t long used to such a thing, he’d have hated it.

As it is, Natsume is simply glad to finally receive his own belongings. He hasn’t unpacked most of them in some time; after a long string of short stays, Natsume simply got into the habit of removing only what he needed and leaving the rest of his belongings carefully packed away until he next had to move on. The last time he’d unpacked all of his things had been when he was living in a small, flower-cluttered apartment with a distant aunt of his, a kind woman who smiled at Natsume and stroked his hair.

Natsume had liked it there; he would close his eyes and pretend it was him she was seeing, not the little girl depicted in the photograph behind the mortuary tablet on her altar. The scent of alcohol around her was overpowered by the flowers, and Natsume became willfully blind – he unpacked his boxes and selfishly wanted nothing to ever change.

But one morning his second uncle picked him up from school and took him away from there without an explanation, and he never saw that woman again or heard any news about her – though, he never asked. When Natsume’s things were finally sent to him at his uncle’s house, they had been packed roughly and the frame for Natsume’s only picture of his parents had broken. Ever since then Natsume has held himself ready for sudden departure, and hasn’t dared to remove anything truly important to him from the boxes for any longer than a few hours. Some of his relatives find this rude, but Natsume thinks it’s far better to be prepared, just in case.

Leaving the majority of his belongings packed away has been a matter of course, but now Natsume finds himself hesitating. He kneels in front of the boxes with a craft knife in his hand, uncertain how to proceed, and his heart is beating hard.

He feels a little silly. Natsume realizes that he is thinking too much about this. But it feels too monumental, too terrifying, too easy to think of just being taken away one day, never to see his belongings again because they will have been lost or broken.

If Reiko knew he was putting so much thought into this, she would probably laugh that gruff, rude, lonely laughter of hers. The thought is – like Reiko herself – a little comforting, sad, and scary all at once, and it makes Natsume’s chest feel too tight, his breath coming short.

He clicks the knife shut, and walks carefully down the stairs, sitting on the bottom step to watch the door. It’s foolish to wait for Reiko to arrive home, because there’s no way to predict what time she’ll arrive, but Natsume doesn’t care. He wants to be there, no matter how long he has to wait.

When she eventually walks in the front door, banging it shut behind her and roughly toeing her shoes off, he stands up and takes a step forward. She mutters an automatic, “I’m home,” under her breath, more to the wooden floorboards than to him, but Natsume’s breath catches anyway.

“W-welcome back,” he says for the first time, and his voice is mostly steady. Natsume feels extremely vulnerable and more than a little bit childish.

But Reiko’s gaze is heavy, and thoughtful, and looks to hold many secrets. “I haven’t heard that since…” She trails off, then scowls and adds, “It’s been a month! What took you so long? Impudent brat.”

Natsume opens his mouth to respond somehow, but Reiko is already brushing past, using her cane to nudge him out of her way. “Shoo.”

He turns to watch her enter the kitchen, dropping her coat on the table and glaring at the contents of the fridge. This is foolish, but... he has friends here now, and she’s told him before that this is his home too, and she sees what he sees, and maybe that will be enough.

“My things came so… I’m unpacking today,” Natsume announces, trembling a little, and although Reiko merely hums and bends down into the fridge to retrieve the beginnings of a meal, he feels very brave. “I’m throwing my boxes away.”

He turns around and goes upstairs after that, not quite seeing the way Reiko closes the fridge door and turns to watch him, eyes narrowed and lips pressed thin together. He doesn’t notice her quietly following after him, either, nor the way she leans against his open doorway and watches as he cuts open the first box and starts removing clothes, books, and a single picture without a frame.

Natsume hardly looks at it for a moment, before quickly folding it and tucking it away into a book. He does so rather roughly, features twisted up into something dark and painful – but then he hides the book away in the closet with evident care, and Reiko laughs out loud.

“My grandson is an idiot,” she comments loudly when he jumps and stares at her wide-eyed, before turning to leave.

But she doesn’t go very far; Reiko remains in the hallway, listening to the sounds of Natsume settling in to stay, and eventually murmurs to herself, in a tone almost pleased: “…Welcome home.”


End file.
